


Beautiful Cold

by alexdamien



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4206687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexdamien/pseuds/alexdamien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canada doesn't mind Russia's coldnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MannyHeatlook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MannyHeatlook/gifts).



Having Russia around wasn’t as bad as the other nations seemed to think. He tended to show up uninvited sometimes. One minute Canada was watching a hockey match, and the next there was Russia sitting next to him making comments about the players and drinking his beer. That didn’t annoy Canada as much as it probably should, but then, few things annoyed Canada.

He thought about it as he cooked pancakes for breakfast. There was a chill in the house though. It seemed to follow Russia everywhere.

That strange drop in temperature all around him. Canada bit his lower lip and flipped the pancakes. It was an uncomfortable thing to think about for some reason. He had known the other nation for years. So many years, yet there were things the other kept away from him. Not secrets, no. But things that he would simply never mention, and Canada had no way to ask about.

He left the pancakes on the plate next to the stove, and felt that strange coldness against the back of his neck, for just a second before he felt warm lips kiss his skin.

“Hey, you’re up,” said Canada, as Russia kissed his neck again.

“It smells delicious,” said the other, and when Canada turned around, he wondered what else he could ever want to know.

There were years he didn’t know about. But there was also this morning, when they held hands, and he realized that no matter the cold, every inch of Russia’s skin was warm. And every inch of it was his.


End file.
